I Am My Father's Son
by OneHotMeerkat
Summary: Fill-In between Michael and running through On My Way. Spoilers through episode 3.16 Sebastian's father has a way of getting to the truth in any given situation. Following an inconclusive investigation about a slushy facial that left Blaine Anderson with an eye injury, Sebastian learns an important lesson about redemption and other things.
1. Part 1

**Title: I Am My Father's Son.**

**By**: OneHotMeerkat  
Fill-In for Michael and On My Way. Spoilers through episode 3.16  
**Rating:** NC-17 for brief sexy times, mild drug use, alcohol, and language  
**Word Count:** 15,500+  
**Summary:** Sebastian's father has a way of getting to the truth in any given situation. Following an inconclusive investigation about a slushy facial that left Blaine Anderson with an eye injury, Sebastian learns an important lesson about redemption and other things.

**a/n**: This is written in Sebastian's POV and hopefully gives him more room for vulnerability. Certain liberties have been taken in terms of Sebastian's day to day routine and his background. Adults have been given made-up first names and I assume (as many other FF writers do) that Sebastian's parents are divorced and that his biological mother lives in Paris. This fic takes the approach of Sebastian's family accepting who he is. In the show, Sebastian wears his father's rank like a badge of honor. No son throws his father's name around like that without some type of strong bond. So to me, Sebastian's father used to be his hero. In this fic, I prove that Mr. Smythe is still Sebastian's hero, he's just a little more subtle about it. Thanks for reading!

**Part 1**

"Do you have anything else you want added to the record Mr. Smythe?" The Dalton Administrator poured over the tiny sheet of information he'd collected. It looked like statements given by the New Directions. At least it looked that way from what I was able to read upside down.

"I'm sorry Mr. Reynolds, but I don't have any new information for you. It was an unfortunate accident." I remembered to keep my face carefully blank and my body language open. I didn't want the man to think I was hiding something. My father always said to look as if you have four aces in your hand. Even when you don't. After a minute, it was obvious he wasn't going to speak. "So what happens now?"

"Now. You leave." He was closing the file, "and if I get wind of anything out of place that you're involved in. No amount of polished testimony from your classmates will save you from expulsion Mr. Smythe."

"I understand Sir." I stood up then, buttoned my jacket, and left for the senior commons where I knew everyone was waiting. It had been a few of weeks since '_slushy-gate'_ as the guys had called it and the Warbler's Counsel had decided that what happened in the parking garage was an unfortunate accident and I wasn't being asked to leave the group. In fact, I still had my solo spot which spoke volumes about how much the guys wanted to win. I still wanted to win too. Badly.

I walked into the commons and they were all there sitting in silence. Each Warbler was perfectly coifed with their ties knotted up way too tightly. Each one looking innocent and hopeful. It was Trent who spoke up first. If I was taking a fall, they would all suffer a mark on their records, and Trent had been the most vocal about atoning for what had happened. "Well?"

"It's over." I heard a collective sigh around the room. "I told you I would take care of it, didn't I?" I shrugged and shoved my hands in my pockets as if it were no big deal. As if I wasn't just under investigation for bullying at a zero-tolerance school. What the guys needed right now was confidence. If I showed it, they'd pick up on it. The Warblers really were a sweet bunch of guys, but they lacked serious leadership and direction.

"Now we can get back to practicing!" There were pats on the back, and smiles of relief, followed by a two and half hour practice session that left everyone tired. I felt a lot of pressure now to bring in a win for the team. Especially after every single one of these guys stood by me and told the Dalton Administrator that what happened was an accident. So I focused hard on practice and choreography and let the counsel take care of musical arrangement. The Warblers weren't using all their collective dance moves to their advantage. I was out to change that. Well, if I could fit it in with my other passion. Lacrosse.

Lacrosse practice went really well after that too. I was more tired than I had been in a long time, but relieved at the same time. The worst seemed behind me and I could breathe again.

"Sebastian. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I thought I was alone. Guess I was wrong. Not many things in life were as sweet as being young and knowing exactly what you wanted. Take James Evans for example. He was the starting forward attack for the Dalton Academy Lacrosse Team. And he was everything I felt like I needed in a guy right now. Tall, gorgeous, dark hair and big baby blue eyes that make girls and sometimes boys swoon. He was also deep, deep in the closet.

I ended up in the locker room with him after Lacrosse practice. Everyone else had gone home and since the season was winding and down and Evan's was a senior, he must have thought I was a safe bet to talk with about being bi-curious. His words, not mine.

I had stayed late to shower up because I was supposed to meet my dad and step-mom for dinner at the Westerville Country Club. It was a good thing I stayed too; otherwise I might not have had this little mid-week interlude. There hadn't been a lot of trips to Scandals since we turned up the heat with Warbler's rehearsals. Regionals were so close I could taste it and I wasn't the only one who wanted to serve a cold slice of '_in your face_,' to the New Directions for taking a couple of key players out of our ranks. The Warblers can be animals when you give them permission to speak freely.

"What's up?" I shut the water off to the shower and wrapped a towel around my hips. I am far from stupid. I was being checked out and I knew it. Evans had been eye-balling me since I joined the team, but we never really spoke outside of '_good job'_ or '_good game man'_. You know, guy talk.

I watched him look me over. _Jesus! Could you be more obvious?_ He ran a hand through his hair and looked around to make sure we were alone. Another sign that Evans wasn't ready to be _me_ yet. "Um… is this a bad time?" He turned as if he'd just realized his own mistake. "You know what, never mind, I'm just going to go."

"Wait!" This is part where I tell you that I understood about how hard it was to come to terms with these feelings and how much sympathy I had for poor James Evans.

But that would be a lie.

"I'd say this was the perfect time." I shoved him right up against the lockers and took him exactly where he was dying to go. What followed was a mini kissing battle. He was trying to lead and the guy was in no way the better kisser, so I couldn't let him win on principle! Never let a virgin get the upper hand in these situations. Nothing freaks them out faster. I wish I could say this was the first time something like this has happened and that James was the first inexperienced guy to approach me.

But that would also be a lie.

I took James' cock in my hand and ran him around the block once. I figured it would take the edge off. What I really wanted was a blow job, but he wasn't ready for that. Next time. If he had the balls to call me after this. If I was lucky, this little interlude plus the fact that I excelled at keeping my mouth shut would wet his appetite. James was tall, lean, and built. I deserved his virginity in the best way possible. But he needed time to wrap his head around the concept first.

Plus, he was a senior and it was the end of the season. It's likely we wouldn't see each other again unless it was outside school and on purpose. So I kept at it. A few solid strokes were all it took for him to lose it. He must have been having this locker room fantasy for a while. I felt the hard pulses of his cock as he went off like a Roman Candle an d then slumped against the wall. I was rinsing the evidence off my hand under the shower spray before he could stand properly. James might not have accepted it yet, but he was gay. No one goes off that fast who doesn't love it.

"I guess this means I'm bi-curious, huh?" He was so out of breath. _Nice O-face Jimmy..._

"Whatever. See ya man." I said as casually as I could and left. No sense babying the guy and treating him like anything but what he was. Just another random. Besides. He'd be back.


	2. Part 2 Father's POV

**Title: I Am My Son's Father **

**a/n** This is a companion piece that goes in tandem with the first part of Sebastian's story and is written from his father's POV.

…..

"Mr. Smythe, you have a call from Don Reynolds from Dalton Academy on line three."

My secretary came over the intercom and it was a good thing she hadn't walked in because not many people catch me with a surprised look on my face. I've been a lawyer a long time and I've seen a lot of unbelievable things come across my desk. But this? This was the call I'd been dreading. Sebastian's school wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong. I pulled Sebastian's '_file'_ from my desk drawer and picked up the phone.

"Robert Smythe speaking."

"Mr. Smythe. This is Don Reynolds I'm the Administrator here at Dalton Academy."

Yeah. This was trouble. _Sebastian, what the hell did you do this time?_ "Ok. I assume this is about my son?"

"Yes sir. I'm conducting an inquiry regarding an incident of alleged bullying by your son and the other Dalton Academy Warblers."

"You're kidding me." That bunch of daises? It was hard to imagine them bullying anyone. "I thought your school had a zero tolerance bullying policy."

"We do Sir; it's why I'm considering expelling your son."

_What? _"Slow down Mr. Reynolds." I spoke to him like a hostage negotiator. Agree with what he says, let him have control, and find out more information before sending in a sniper team. "What were the details of the incident?" I began scribbling important words down as they jumped out at me.

"As we understand it, the Warblers met a rival show choir in a parking garage and Sebastian allegedly threw a red slushy into the face of a former student. One Blaine Anderson. This was following some sort of group musical number." Musical number? My god Sebastian was living out West Side Story. Thank God he was gay! I kept listening. "The family has opted not to pursue damages or charges, but we were asked to look into the matter by another former student, a Mr. Kurt Hummel. "

"Is this really an investigation about a slushy to the face?" I asked incredulously.

"No sir. The McKinley students allege that Sebastian or one of the other Warblers put something more substantial inside the cup in order to cause the injury."

That _was_ a serious allegation, but I wasn't going to say that out loud. "Was the slushy recovered? Examined?"

"No sir."

"Did any of the McKinley students claim they saw something being added to the slushy before it was thrown at," I read the name from my paper, "Blaine Anderson?"

"No Sir."

"I'm going to stop you there Mr. Reynolds. I'm a busy man. I get to charge 175$ an hour for my services. This conversation has gone on for five minutes. Let me tell you what I just heard. You have a group of angry teenagers who want some kind of revenge for an accident that didn't happen on school property. Whose own parents recognize that it was an accident because they aren't pressing the issue or suing your school the way _I_ will do if you try and expel my son for something you can't reasonably prove he did with intent."

I paused to collect my breath, because I knew this argument was going to go my way. "If you want to attract undue attention to Dalton Academy for some kind of scandal involving your _show_ _choir_. Then by all means. Pursue this dead end. But you're going to have a lot of angry parents pulling their sons out of your overpriced school if you don't close this investigation fast. How much do you make an hour Mr. Reynolds? Is it worth this? A kid took a slushy to the face and sustained an eye injury. That's the only fact in this case. Hurt feelings don't win court cases Mr. Reynolds, facts do. And the fact is accidents happen."

I waited for the administrator to make a counter argument, but all I could hear was his mouth breathing, so I closed the conversation. "Thank you very much for calling me Mr. Reynolds, I'll be in touch."

"Um… yes…Sir. Thank you." He stammered. "Have a wonderful day."

I sat for a long time looking at my notebook. There was evidence here. A story. Motivation. They were pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and this time it was personal because if Sebastian was flirting with a borderline assault charge. I needed to know every detail!

Two things motivate most people to commit acts of malice. Passion and money. I ruled out money. And focused on the other. The boy who was hit with the slushy was a former student at Dalton. A quick web search revealed that he was the lead soloist in the Dalton Academy Warblers. Until he moved to McKinley High School. Next there was Kurt Hummel. The student who launched the complaint in the first place. He was also a former Warbler and both boys were now in the McKinley show choir. I began connecting dots.

I watched one five minute video of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson singing a duet at Dalton's Regional competition and deduced that if they weren't in some sort of relationship that they were very close. I also discovered that Kurt was the son Freshman Congressman Burt Hummel. No wonder the administrator took the matter so seriously! Kurt Hummel must have been wearing his father's rank. I also read that Burt Hummel's son was an openly gay teen attending high school at McKinley. That answered one of my questions. Passion.

I've known Sebastian was gay since he was twelve. He's spent a lot of time in France and the European attitude towards homosexuality is a great deal different than rural Ohio. But my son's sexuality has never been an issue in our family. The same was true here. This wasn't an issue of sexuality. This was an issue of _sex_.

It was safe to say that Sebastian had a crush on one of these boys. I didn't want to guess which one. It wasn't really the main concern. But the fact was, he was motivated enough to lash out. I assumed he was scorned by one of them. There was a second issue of the two boys possibly leaving for a rival show choir and leaving a bad taste in the mouths of their former team mates. That was probably how Sebastian was able to enlist their help so easily. _That was my boy_. He was a natural leader, but I was still going to put my foot in his ass!

I hit the buzzer for my secretary. "Carla, get my wife on the phone please." I asked Mary-Ellen to make a dinner reservation at the Westerville Country Club for the three of us and to make sure Sebastian got the message. She wanted to have a closer relationship with him, but he wouldn't let her in. Almost no one can get that kind of _in_ with Sebastian. I had this fear that he saw most people as disposable. It was something I decided to work on with him because if I didn't… he was going nowhere good.


	3. Part 3

My parents were already seated by the time I arrived at the Westerville Country Club. "Sorry I'm late." I smiled and leaned down to kiss my step-mother on the cheek. "Practice ran long."

"Lacrosse or Warbler's practice?" My father raised an eyebrow. That was my first red flag. My father is State's Attorney and you don't get to be Robert Smythe's son by not taking note of when you're under his microscope. He and I have an agreement. I don't get into trouble and he stays out of my business. Lately, I've been teetering on the knife's edge of trouble though. First there was my grand introduction to Westerville's Finest one night when I was driving home from Scandals. That hadn't been the best of nights. Then there was the investigation that had somehow fallen my way at Dalton.

It was the resident New Directions lesbian, Santana Lopez, who informed me that Blaine Anderson had to have surgery on his eye. I admit I felt pretty shitty about that. Ok, so I felt really shitty about it. I actually liked Blaine. It was unusual for me to find a guy I liked or that I could see myself fucking more than once at regular intervals. Blaine was really pretty and he had something that drew me right in. If I was being honest, I'd say he struck me like lightening.

Not to mention, Blaine said '_no'_ to me. Not many out and proud guys had the balls to turn me down. Especially in rural Ohio, the land of guns and homophobes. So of course I wanted him! The only obstacle between him, me, and my next orgasm, had been one Kurt Hummel. Hence the heightened anger I created with me fellow Warblers in order to persuade them that stooping to their level -the level of the public school slushy facial- was warranted. Not one of them objected after I made the case and used all of their collective complaints as arguments: '_Kurt had jumped ship after the Warblers lost and the New Directions were going to compete for Nationals. He had convinced Blaine to transfer, thus taking their best chance at an easy win._'

I had no idea how true all that was. I didn't care. The thing that pissed me off was the fact that Kurt stood between me and something I wanted. Not to mention. He was pretty rude to me the day I ran into him and Blaine at the Lima Bean. All I did was say hello and his opener was '_I_ _don't like you._' While I appreciated blatant honesty, not one person in my life had ever dared talk to me like that. It was unsettling. Different. Raw.

My father was still looking at me for an answer, so I did my best to snap out of it. "Lacrosse practice Sir." My mind was still elsewhere. I had had screwed up so badly with Blaine. If Blaine hadn't jumped face first in front of the bullet meant for Kurt and his designer outfit, I might have stood a chance with the guy. As things turned out, I had to kiss my odds of ever dating Blaine goodbye. Even I know not to date a guy who tosses a slushy at your boyfriend's face. Though it was an accident that it hit Blaine. If it had hit Kurt, Blaine still would have held me and the other boys accountable. So it was the competition that mattered now. Winning. Not winning Blaine, that I had to focus on.

"You're done for the season aren't you?" My father raised his eyebrow at me. I could see him base lining my body language. It's like I could feel him looking at me. Word of friendly advice…never lie to a State's Attorney. I had tried on multiple occasions and failed. What my father was doing, was making me really uncomfortable.

"We are Sir. It's just the Warbler's Regional competition. When we win there will be a lot more practices."

I watched my father laugh and pat my shoulder affectionately. "That's my boy. Victory or death!" There was a telling pause and he looked me over the way he often did with clients. "At any cost." He flagged the waitress, "your mom was just telling me that one of leads from your competition might have to sit this one out."

I gave my father a double take. He was talking about Blaine! I knew that Dalton was launching an inquiry into the matter, but the Warblers had decided to close ranks around me and we all told the same story to the Administrator. It wasn't unheard of that the school would target me as a ring leader and call my father, but the investigation had been dropped. Inconclusive.

My step-mother spoke next. "I'm on the Children's Benefit Committee with Mrs. Anderson. Her son almost lost an eye! She says things look good so far after the surgery, but they have to wait a little longer to make sure." My step-mother was shaking her head in disgust. "Those public school children are ruthless."

I couldn't help myself. At the news that Blaine was ok, or going to be ok and wouldn't suffer any lasting damage to his eye because of me, I let out a sigh. _Thank God_! My father ordered drinks for us and appetizers and turned to my step-mother. "Mary-Ellen, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sterling at the bar on the way in. We should say hello."

He squeezed her shoulder and she smiled at him, already moving to grab her purse and interpreting the gesture as '_you should leave the table so I can put my son through the ringer._' Why was it that my father could play anyone like a fiddle? "I have to go to the powder room; I'll stop by on my way!" And just like that. She left me with my father defenseless to the conversation I knew was coming. My father wasn't one to beat around the bush, so I braced myself for anything.

"I got a call from Don Reynolds today." Was his opener. "I assume you know that name?"

"Yes Sir, he's the Dalton Academy Administrator." I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Why didn't I assume the administrator would call my father? I should have tied that loose end! Now I was going to pay for it.

"Do you have anything you want to say to me?"

_Shit_. Shit shit shit! This wasn't supposed to go down like this! The entire situation was supposed to go away quietly! I could feel the blood rushing between my ears I was so nervous. "Dad…I can expl…"

"Spare me the details Sebastian." My father waved a hand and I got the distinct impression that he already knew them. He was a pretty amazing lawyer after all. Leaning forward, he placed both of his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. "Son, I will _always_. Be in your corner. But only if I know I can trust you. Don't let me hear third hand information about _you_ ever again Sebastian. Do you understand? If something looks like it might go official, bring it to me. Don't wait. You got really lucky this time."

"Yes Sir." God, I could feel the Goosebumps popping up on my arms. He knew. I have no idea how he knew, but my father knew and I had no doubt that he was able to figure out in less than a day what the Dalton Administrator couldn't figure out over the course of a few weeks. I was equal amounts proud and terrified.

"It's time to grow up Sebastian. Part of being a man means doing things you don't want to do." My father has a way of layering small phrases like this with big meaning. This was no different. I knew exactly what he meant. He expected me to burn fewer bridges in the future. I had no doubt that he was behind whatever had happened behind closed doors to make the inquiry go away. Now I owed him, and he knew that.

"Smile, here come's your mother…"

"Step-mother." I said through my teeth as I smiled that same smile that I normally reserve for other people's parents. I didn't have any major issues with Mary-Ellen, but she wasn't my mother.

"Not now son." My father chastised quietly, and then louder, "how _are_ the Sterling's Dear?"

"Three sheets to the wind and funnier than a clown at a stag party!" She smiled and allowed my father to kiss her cheek. I swear they both walked straight out of 1965, though I'm pretty sure that's not true. "They have their boy coming to pick them up. He's one of your friends isn't he Sebastian?"

I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy going through the motions of my day, trying to figure out how my father suddenly knew more than I did. "What?" I turned my head sharply towards her in confusion before the question she asked me sank in. "Oh, you mean Jeff. He and I are in the Warbler's together."

"Well I can't wait for your competition. I'll be there with bells on." She patted my arm.

I looked over at my father who simply smiled a little. I'm the one person he would never lie to, so I didn't even bother to ask if he was going to be there. Instead I did the best thing I could think of to thank him for whatever it was he'd just done for me. I nodded once and replied, "thanks Mom." I didn't look at her face to see a reaction to the arbitrary title I'd just given her, but there was a ripple of surprise around the table. His nod was the one I was looking for. And he gave it to me. _Thanks Dad_.


	4. Part 4

That weekend we had extra Warbler's practice. It was nice to be able to dance outside of those hot polyester jackets for a change too. The guys were getting really good with the routine and even our worst dancers could compete with the '_Nude Erections_' best efforts. Nick and Jeff had come up with that name. Not me. In fact those two spent the afternoon on you tube and the New Directions website renaming all of its members. '_Tina Blowing-Wang'_ was my personal favorite.

"Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me!" Trent was lounging in the senior commons window, surfing Facebook on his new phone. "Rachel Barbara Berry is engaged!"

"What?" The rest of the guys came over to look at Trent's screen and Nick and Jeff set about immediately looking up the same information of their own phones. Detestable. "You're Facebook friends with them now?" I asked skeptically.

"Kurt was a Warbler. She was a friend of a friend. A couple actually, Blaine's friends with her too." He turned the phone towards me. Everyone else was shaking their heads and talking about marriage at a young age being a waste. I was busy trying to think of way I could turn the situation to our advantage.

"Who's the lucky guy?" I asked with no lack of acid in my voice.

"Finn Hudson." Nick answered, still looking at his phone. "Hey check it out; he accepted my friend's request! He has a lot of pictures… And he's Kurt's brother."

_Jesus_ these guys were too much sometimes! "Give me that." I took Nick's phone and glanced at the screen. Finn was a typical tall, goofy-looking garden variety high school jock. But he was also Kurt's brother? They didn't even have the same last name! How many times was Kurt Hummel going to ruin my life?

"If you ladies are done fawning over the bride and groom. We have a competition to win." I handed Nick's phone back. "Or we could just go to the mall and try on new shoes… is that what's happening here? You guys are all coming out to me? Because I can only handle one of those a week and I'm kind of at quota already." That got them moving. I ran practice 45 minutes longer than I meant to. Partially because we needed it and partially because they pissed me off.

An hour later, I was showered and bored laying on the big couch in my upstairs game room, flipping through channels. I still had a bit of homework to catch up on, but it could wait. I kept thinking about our competition. There had to be something I could do to give us an edge. McKinley had the home court advantage. We were also up first when I would have preferred us to go last. I had watched a enough of McKinley's competition videos to know that Rachel Berry was their best chance at an easy win. Just like Blaine had been for the Warblers. Now they were both on the same team and that didn't bode well for us. I would have to try and think of some way to even those odds a little. An idea just hadn't hit me yet.

That was when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text from James Evans. Closeted Lacrosse player. Senior. I wasn't as interested in him as I had been before he let me have my way with him in the locker room. I considered ignoring the texts all together before my dick reminded me that we hadn't had him yet.

**James:** Hey.

**Sebastian:** Hey yourself. How's it going?

**James:** Can I talk to you?

**Sebastian**: What's the first rule of Fight Club?

**James**: We don't talk about it.

**Sebastian**: Exactly. Is there anything else I can do for you?

**James**: You want to hang out?

**Sebastian**: You should come here. Our pool is heated and I don't feel like going anywhere.

**James**: Ok.

**Sebastian**: Park in the back. I'll leave the gate open for you.

It was that easy. I had just enough time to change and make myself a drink. I was sitting in the hot tub with my arms spread over the back of it and relaxing when he walked in. "I _did_ invite you to swim." I said looking over him curiously as he came through the gate. He was wearing faded jeans and a light green t-shirt that did nothing for him. Poor guy. "Drink?"

"Uh. Yeah, that'd be great." He walked over towards me and toed off his shoes. He rolled up his jeans to the knee and let his feet sit in the water while I handed him a high ball half filled with gin. "What is this?" He smelled the clear liquid curiously.

"It's Tanqueray. It has a citrus flavor, try it." I looked over him and questioned the logic of inviting him to the house. James was cute, I'd give him that, but he looked very nervous and I wasn't in the mood to break him in today.

"You know a lot about this stuff." He remarked sipping the drink and then made a face like he'd just licked sandpaper. Didn't anyone in this town appreciate hard liquor? I was willing to bet James was a beer man just like Blaine. I wondered acidly if he had a gay-faced boyfriend stashed somewhere that he was going to choose over me too.

I shook my head at him. "Amateur. There's beer in the pool house if you'd rather have that." James tasted the liquid again and then nodded, handing the drink back to me. I set everything to the side and got out of the hot tub. "Right this way."

There were days when I was willing to be patient. This wasn't one of them. The second we got into the pool house I shut the door and pushed him up against it. James seemed to be expecting it because he didn't even put up a fight this time. He must have liked the kiss I gave him last time because he relaxed and let me lead. _Good boy Jimmy_. I waited, pressing up against him hard, part of me wanting to scare him away and the other part just wanting. It wasn't until I heard a sweet little moan from the back of his throat that I knew neither of us was going anywhere.

"What about your parents?" James said when I let him up for air and began pulling at the button and zipper of his jeans.

"What the fuck do you care?" I smirked and reached into his boxers to wrap my hand around his half-hard cock. I grabbed his hair and pulled it back with my other hand and teased his mouth with a barely there kiss. Predictably, he tried to chase my lips but I tugged at his hair when he did. The cock in my hand grew rock hard instantly. _Virgins_. They loved confidence. "Tell me you want it." My tongue darted out to lick and nip a little at his bottom lip. They were so pink and swollen. Thinking about those lips around my cock was making me ache so badly it wasn't funny!

"I don't know." He breathed against me and I relaxed my grip on his cock. I had stroked him into a frenzy. Now it was time to teach my new boy toy the reward system. '_I don't know_' was a bullshit answer!

"That was the wrong answer Jimmy." I started to take my hand out of his pants and I could feel him panic.

"Wait! I… mean… I do. I want it." He tried to thrust upwards into my hand then. It was so cute, how desperate he was!

"That's a good boy." I bit his jaw and this side of his neck. I could feel him flinch away from the touch instead of just enjoying it. "Relax. I won't leave a mark." I was pumping his cock and I could tell he was about to ask for more. What could I say? I'm a generous guy. But I wasn't letting him get away this time without taking something back. I unzipped my own jeans and pushed my boxer briefs down just enough to take my cock out.

God, I loved having long fingers. I captured both our cocks in my hand and stroked over them together. It would have been great if he hadn't started freaking out. I could feel him tensing up and getting ready to run like a spooked horse. _Fucking Virgins, I swear_! "Hey! Hey no. Look at me, shhhh," I soothed. "kiss me. Just do it." He turned his head towards me and let me kiss him. I really did like the way he was learning to relax under me. I like calling most of the shots with a guy. Sex was not supposed to be an exercise in patience though. "Put your head back. Close your eyes." I saw the point. When you were kissing a guy or even getting jacked off, you could always pretend it's a girl or whatever. But two cocks together. That was harder to imagine away.

The one thing I had going for me was the fact that James still had a raging hard on. Now thanks to him, I did too. So we were doing this! I felt his surrender before I read it in his expression. He relaxed and let me have him. _Good boy Jimmy._ I rested my head against his neck and jacked us both off. He was done before I was, the poor bastard. Fifteen minutes later, I was putting a dizzy James Evans in his car and waving at him as he backed down the driveway. I could say that was the last I saw of him.

But that would be a lie.


	5. Part 5

**a/n **This part incorporates the bar scene between Dave Karofsky and Sebastian. The random at the end has an uncanny resemblance to a certain Gap assistant manager.

…..

I needed a little something for myself after that. Whatever had just happened with James was nowhere near the caliber of experience I wanted, so I decided to head over to Scandals. I was becoming quite the regular there actually. The bouncer knew me and my fake ID so well, he didn't even look at it this time, he just sort of waved me in.

"Hey. How's it going?" I turned in the direction of the voice thinking I was about to meet my next hook-up. Not even close.

Dave Karofsky. _Shit_. Dave was practically a regular too. He had struck up a conversation with me after the night I brought Kurt and Blaine to Scandals. We both had common interests or friends or whatever. I wasn't paying too much attention at the time. I left him at the bar to hook up with a cute guy who standing by the pay phone. When I came back fifteen minutes later, post sex, he was looking at me like I was some kind of god. He always talked to me after that. It was cute but irritating at the same time. All I knew was that every time Dave came around, people would assume we were together and no one talked to me. He was the worst wingman ever, and not particularly friendly with other guys either.

"Dave Karofsky." I smirked, "What's up?"

"You know. Just here. Seeing what I can see."

"Well good luck with that." I grabbed my drink and headed over to the juke box. Should have known he'd follow me. I must have been wearing my '_closeted virgins get help here'_ sign. First James and now this? Please! All I needed now was for Gay-Face and Gay-Cyclops to come in and start fucking on the bar in front of me to put the cherry on top of my night!

"I kind of need advice." Dave was at my side again like an obedient lap dog. This guy needed a friend in the worst way. Even I could see that. But I wasn't the type to make friends. Not ones like that anyway.

"Advice?" I said skeptically bending over to look at what was new in the juke box.

"So how you get a guy to like you?"

"You get a guy?" I looked at him as if he had asked the question in Chinese. "Please." Was that even a real question?

"Why? What's wrong with _me_?" Dave's feelings were probably hurt and I could see the storm clouds brewing behind his eyes.

Jesus, where was I supposed to start? "Well, first off, you are about a hundred pounds overweight. Stop. Waxing your eyebrows, you look like Liberace…" I turned away from the juke box to look at him smugly. I was done using kid gloves on inexperienced guys. "In fact…just…stay in the closet buddy." I gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat and laughed as I walked away. I wish I could have said I felt bad about refusing to help Dave at that moment.

But that would be a lie.

Besides. The guy standing outside the bathroom waiting to use the phone was way more interesting than me handing out more free advice. He had shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, and really square jaw. Almost a Jay Leno chin. I looked at him and he looked at me and that was it. I can't really explain the spark of connection better than that. He and I just both knew it was going to happen. I smiled at him as I passed on the way to the bathroom. Sure enough. He followed.

Thirty seconds later he was all over me. This wasn't a blushing young man either. He wanted something from me. I grabbed a handful of his shaggy hair and bent his head bock for a kiss. That was when the red flag went up. His breath was horrible! He was still cute though, so I skipped the kissing and shoved my hands in his back pocket's to squeeze his ass. "How about a blow job." I said next to his ear.

"How about a kiss?" He was looking for my lips again.

"That's not a good idea…" I breathed and my fingers closed around a squishy plastic bag in his pocket.

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love?" He breathed right in my face then and I had to look away so I didn't vomit.

Suddenly that weirdly-shaped chin was really bugging me. "No. Your breath smells like ass." He gave me this '_how dare you'_ look. Like I would want to go around kissing guys with ass breath! Or like it was my fault he had it and hadn't done anything about it! _Dick_. Chew some fucking gum!

"Fuck you." He pulled back roughly, drawing my hands out of his pockets and stalked out the door. That's when I noticed the bag of weed that had fallen to the floor. Guess that solved the mystery of what was in his pocket. I shoved it into my own pocket, washed my hands, and left the club for the night. I wasn't really a weed smoking type of guy, not regularly, but something like this might come in handy.


	6. Part 6

**I am My Father's Son**

**Part 6**

"What are you doing after practice today?" I had to turn around to see if it was Nick or Jeff who was talking to me. They came in a box set, so it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Me? I think I might relax in my Jacuzzi. Drink the last of my red wine. Grill a steak. My parents are out for the weekend." I would have considered going back to Scandals, but I struck out pretty hard with ass-breath guy and I didn't want a repeat of that. Bad Karma.

"Well…" Jeff looked at Nick for permission to speak. My God they were so married! "We were playing around with photo shop and…"

"We have something to show you." Nick finished helpfully.

"It's not the two of you in compromising positions is it? I realize I'm gay, but I don't actually want to see that. Like ever." They exchanged confused looks. Why was it so hard for people to tell when I was joking?

"No. It's something else." Nick explained and Jeff nodded.

"Fine. Come over after practice. But my plans haven't changed." I wasn't kidding either. I had taken that weed home and I was seriously thinking of lighting up.

What surprised me, and what they had to show me was a Warbler's group shot that Jeff had photo shopped to look like all the guys were wearing bikini's and heels. Jeff had a real knack for this stuff, I was impressed.

That's when it hit me. "Hey. I have an idea." I grinned at them and they both looked at me like obedient lap dogs. "Are you still Facebook friends with Finn Hudson?" I asked smirking. That launched a forty-five minute photoshop project where Jeff was practically shaking because he'd never had to sort through naked photos of guys in high heels before.

"My Dad checks the browser history on my laptop…" Jeff was breaking a sweat. I honestly thought for a second that he might pass out.

"Stop being so picky!" I chastised him. "Find one who looks tall enough and match it to Finn." I wish I could say I felt guilty about the finished product…

But that would be a lie.

I had Jeff print it out for me and I stuffed it into an envelope with one of my step-mother's pink ribbons wrapped around it. "I think is exactly what we need gentlemen…this will make a perfect engagement present for Rachel Berry." That was… unless she was willing to bow out of the competition to save the man she loved from public scandal.

Nick and Jeff were giving me this weird, '_what now'_ look and as much as I liked sex, even _I_ got a little put off by the thought of a threesome with '_Burt and Ernie'_. It was time to make our little conspiracy a lock.

"Let's celebrate. You guys want to get high?" I winked and moved outside to the pool house. I couldn't risk that sweet smell permeating through my father's office. Both my dad and Mary-Ellen went to Ivy League schools. No way did they _not_ get high.

"Oh my god, you really do have weed!" Nick said as he walked into the pool house. The pool house was more like a club house with a couple of couches for lounging, a changing room and a fridge for extra beverages. "Where did you get that?"

"I have my ways." Was all I said in reply. No need to tell them I had accidentally pulled it out of a guy's pants before I insulted his bad breath. I was too busy metering out the first joint on the table in front of me. I sort-of looked like I knew what I was doing too. Thank you Google!

"Dude, you're like Cesar!" Jeff said closing the door and then the blinds.

"You're not planning on stabbing me are you?" After a few minutes I had something that could pass for a joint in my hand.

"Not yet." Nick admitted. "But Trent's pretty close." He gave a sort of shrug, "he was friends with Kurt."

I put the smoke between my lips and wrestled with the lighter in my hand. "That explains a lot." I said lighting the smoke and taking a tentative drag. "Damn." I looked at the joint in my fingers and lamented. "I should have gotten that guy's name."

I passed the smoke to Nick and Jeff was peeking through the blinds. "You're not expecting anyone right?"

"No. Stop being paranoid and get away from there!" I took the joint back from Nick, "come get high with me and your girlfriend."

"He's not my girlfriend." Nick remarked so casually that I thought this was not the first time he'd responded to an accusation like that.

"Well someone's here…" Jeff turned around and looked at me and Nick went white like a sheet. "Should we flush the pot?"

"Are you fucking kidding me!" I walked over the window and saw an all too familiar face let himself into the gate by the pool. This wasn't what I needed. Another stalker. "Shit." I said out loud. "I'll be right back. Stay here. And don't flush anything! I'm not high yet…"

Walking out of the pool house, I shoved my hands in my pockets and met James Evans halfway. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"I tried to call. You're cell went to voicemail." He was already giving me that needy, '_touch_-_me'_ look and I was honestly not in the mood for this shit tonight. Feed a stray dog once, he always comes back.

"Look. Jimmy. This isn't a good time…"

"James Evans?" It was Jeff's voice. _Fuck_! Frick and Frack were out of the pool house and ready to hero worship the star of the Dalton Academy Lacrosse team. "Hey what's up!"

Nick came out too and brazenly shook James' hand. By the way James flinched back, Nick reeked of weed. He gave me a look and I just sort of shrugged. "You're going stay right?" Nick asked and then looked at me. "Is he cool?"

This was not fucking happening to me. "Yeah sure. Whatever." I walked back into the pool house, not even trying to hide my irritation. If I was going to have to put up with those three, I was going to be high! Cue the most bizarre evening I have ever had. A couple of hours later, the sun was going down and no one cared.

"You got any food Sebastian?" Jeff asked from the couch where his feet were propped in Nick's lap. Did they have any idea they were gay?

"I have some steaks. I could throw them on the gas grill." I was one to talk. I was lounging lengthwise on the sofa with my head on a pillow that was propped against James' thigh. He had the audacity to give me a '_no_ _homo'_ before I laid down. That was irksome, but he was the one holding the last joint and had shot-gunned with me once already. That was sort of cool. I was kind of hoping he'd do it again when I felt him wiggle his leg.

"Do it man. Fire that shit up. I am fucking high and hungry." He grinned, "horny too." Ok, so James had a really cute smile, but I wasn't about to get into something that would only be a drag on my fun later. I had a whole summer planned of man-whoring and this guy needed to be shut down before he got the wrong idea about what we were.

I sat up, taking one last drag from the smoke and putting it out for later. "Come on. If I have to cook you're helping." I tugged James up off the couch. On the way out I heard Nick and Jeff talking about the Jacuzzi. I didn't have the energy to tell them where the extra suits were. They'd figure it out. Instead I tugged James inside the house and pulled a couple of large Porterhouses out of the fridge.

"My parents say steak is lazy cooking. So they gave me enough for today and tomorrow. I'll make them both and we'll split it four ways." I looked over at James who had grabbed some almonds out of a candy dish and was eating them one at a time. He was staring at me. "What?" I was high, so I was pretty sure I was mirroring his goofy smile.

"I always have the best time at your house." He mused, taking a step closer. "Do you know what's funny?"

I glanced passed his shoulder out the window and then back at him. "Nick and Jeff platonically naked in my Jacuzzi?" I had officially seen more of Nick and Jeff than I ever needed to see. Though Nick was bigger than I expected. _Congratulations Nick_.

James wasn't listening to me though. He was still so high. "I'm not even gay." He laughed, "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I have a girlfriend man."

"Alert the media." I replied sarcastically. "You know you should call her." I mused taking spices out of the pantry for the steaks. "I bet she wants to see you. Like right now."

"Naw, she doesn't live here. She's out of state. But fuck it right? It's not cheating if it's another dude."

"Ok, even I know that's bullshit." I wasn't even solid on liking this guy and now he was setting me up to be his regular piece of ass? No thanks. I turned towards James and set everything I was carrying on the counter. "Look. This is fun. But don't get attached. I don't do long term. Got it?" It was obvious I made James uncomfortable because he was scrubbing a hand through his hair and looking around.

"Whatever man. I'm leaving at right after I graduate. Backpacking through Europe and then Ohio State University."

"Really? That's all your prep school education got you? Entrance into Ohio State?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather swallow razor blades than go there."

"It's a Big Ten school!"

"It's not the Ivy League." I shrugged and leaned against the counter.

"Oh, that's where you're going?" I smirked instead of commenting. "Whatever! You think you're better than everyone else Sebastian, but you're not."

"Well…at least I'm not in denial about wanting a cock in my ass." I replied smiling at him as if he were a lost puppy. He looked at me a moment as if I had slapped him so I figured it time to rip the band aid off. "What? Where did you think this was all going? Milk shakes and movie dates? I like sex James. Either we're having it or this conversation is pointless."

"Fuck you!" He yelled at me and for a second I honestly thought I was in for a fight. "Fuck this. I'm out!" James turned sharply and pushed his way out of the door. I watched Nick and Jeff call to him, looking over the side of the Jacuzzi as unaware of each other as two naked boys in a bath tub.

"Well that's over." I said to myself as I walked outside to grill my steaks. I officially hated James Evans for ruining what was left of my high.


	7. Part 7 Father's POV

**I Am My Son's Father**

**a/n **This part is also written from Sebastian's father's POV but falls in place with the timeline. Thanks very much for reading! Reviews, good, bad, or indifferent are appreciated!

**Part 7**

…..

"Sebastian." I knocked on my son's door and checked my watch. 5:30 AM Sunday Morning. "Wake up son!" I heard a groan from the other side of the door. That meant he was alive at least. It was a start.

"I thought you were gone until Monday." He complained and burrowed further beneath his blankets.

"We got in late last night. In case you were having a party." It was close enough to the truth. I had a tee-time I didn't want to miss and I wanted time with Sebastian. His entire attitude had turned sour over the last few weeks and he needed to learn how to move forward instead of getting hinged of things that were beyond his control.

"I wasn't having a party. Jeff Sterling and another Warbler came over. I used the grill." He put a pillow over his face when I flipped the overhead light on. "Can I can go back to sleep now?"

"Afraid not son. The golf course misses me. And I miss you. Now get up." I waited until Sebastian rolled all the way out of bed before I headed downstairs and packed a light snack and a couple of waters for the cooler.

I loved owning my own golf-cart. It was why Mary-Ellen and I picked this house. It had a pool and Jacuzzi that Sebastian enjoyed, sure. But most importantly, it was close enough to the golf course for me to purchase and store my own golf-cart in the garage. Mary-Ellen teased me because anytime someone came over; it was the first thing I showed them.

It was still dark outside when I opened the garage and pulled the cart out. My clubs were already in it and ready to go, but Sebastian's clubs (a hand-me down set from yours truly), had a way of moving around. They weren't anywhere in the garage, so I checked the overhead storage above the garage, making a note to organize that space later because it looked atrocious, but they weren't there either. Finally, I checked the pool house. That's when I smelled the all too familiar, sweet smell of burning grass. The pool house itself was clean save for a few stray towels, but I _knew_ that smell. This was all I needed! First, my son was almost expelled and then this! I knew his mother would ruin him with her lax attitude towards parenting!

After Sebastian first moved back in with Mary-Ellen and me, he was desperate for company. _His_ kind of company. We tried introducing him to boys his age at the Country Club, but he wouldn't have it. I got a call from the Westerville Police department one night. My son was speeding after curfew and the officer was convinced he'd been drinking. Since the officer was someone who knew me personally, he called me instead of reading Sebastian the riot act. The officer figured I would do it. I didn't. I was desperate to bond with my son and I wanted him to trust me. I made the entire situation go away with his word that it would never happen again. To be fair, he kept his word, but this was worse!

To boot, Sebastian's clubs weren't in the pool house. I ran into him on his way out of the back door with the clubs over his shoulder. They were in his room. _I should have known that_.

"You ready?" He grunted at me and loaded his clubs into the cart. He normally drives, but today he slid into the passenger seat. _Interesting_.

We rode for a while in companionable silence. I figured Sebastian was too tired from his night of debauchery to talk yet. I checked us in at the club house and wondered if my boy had 18 holes in him today. He was asleep in the cart until I woke him at the first hole. Admittedly, I got a little lost for a while after that. I love golf first thing in the morning when it's quiet and not too hot. When I retire, this is all I am going to do. Every day.

"You don't love golf." I said when we lapped over to the back nine. I parked the cart and looked at him. His eyes shifted towards me. Sebastian inherited his mother's green eyes and her devil may care attitude. Sometimes his facial expressions make me want to strangle him by proxy.

"What?"

"You don't love golf."

"I like it just fine." He started to get out of the cart and maybe he was finally waking up.

"But you don't love it." He laughed at me then and put his pin down. I stayed quiet until he was done because frankly my boy needed to stop the bleeding, he was not doing well. The shot was high. "That's a Rainmaker." I said moving into the position. After I took my shot, I looked at him. "You want to tell me why I smelled marijuana in the pool house?"

Sebastian actually looked surprised. I'm pretty sure he didn't expect me to say that. Instead of answering right away, he sat down in the cart. "I found a couple joints. I smoked them last night with a few friends." He sighed and reached for his water bottle. At least he wasn't denying it.

"Define _found_." Nobody _finds_ dope. That was ridiculous.

He shrugged at me. "I was using the bathroom and they were on the floor. I took 'em."

If he hadn't of been so honest with me, I would have chastised him for his use of slang. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that was stupid. Those joints could have been laced with anything, Sebastian. What were you thinking? Now let's say for argument's sake that, that was the first and last time you will ever experiment with illegal substances while you're living in my house." I gave him a pointed look. "You can ruin your life on your own time. Not under my roof. Are we clear?"

"Yes Sir." That seemed to wake him up a little. I know boys will be boys and Sebastian's never really been keen to that sort of thing. Sometimes I think he's too smart for his own good. Plus there were some things I did not need to know. But I was curious about one thing.

"So which one did you have the crush on?" I added casually. "Kurt Hummel or Blaine Anderson?" That remark got his attention more than the question about smoking in the pool house.

After a long minute, he answered me. "Blaine." Sebastian shook his head and looked away. I swear I have never seen a glimpse of a more heart-broken expression in my life. I felt so bad for my son. But what was I supposed to say?

"You know Sebastian, I know you probably don't want advice about this, but here's a small pearl of wisdom. Throwing something in someone's face is not the way to get them to like you." He huffed then and I thought for a brief moment he might break down, but he didn't. _That's my boy_. He's strong, but he's stupid when it comes to human relations. "You need to apologize to that young man. You know that right? Not just because you were in the wrong, but because it's the right thing to do."

"I'm pretty sure he won't speak to me." Sebastian answered rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye.

I turned then and faced him in the cart. "You can't apologize on your own terms Sebastian. No situation is ever going to be perfect when you're wrong. The best thing you can hope for is to own up to it. Atonement is a hard and humbling experience. It's supposed to make you feel uncomfortable. That's why they call it swallowing your pride. That's something you have a lot of Son." God, Sebastian was just like his mother. She could never admit it when she was wrong either.

"There's Jack and Jill behind us. We should go." He said looking over his shoulder. I had no way of knowing if any of my advice reached him or not. I hoped so.

"They can play through if they need to. This is more important." I patted his shoulder. "I need to know if you're finished…with this. Whatever this obsession is that you have with these two boys." The look he gave me was worth money it was so unique. You would have thought I had grown a second head!

"Yeah." He replied finally. "I'm done with them."

"Bullying is no joke Sebastian. I need to know you are finished with these people. This other show choir."

"I am!" We exchanged looks and he corrected his mistake fast. "Yes Sir."

He still looked guilty, but I couldn't tell from what and I got the distance impression he was telling me a half truth, but I let it go. I do love my son very much and I hate to see him wrestle with himself this way. But some lessons you have to let a man learn on his own. "Then pull the 5 Iron. You're up!"


	8. Part 8

**Part 8**

Contrary to popular belief, I did not live at the Lima Bean. I went there a lot because there weren't a lot of options around town in the way of coffee and there was a barista there who I sort of had my eye on. He wasn't working that morning, but that wasn't important. I had popped in before school to grab a coffee and it was dumb luck that I saw Rachel and Kurt sitting at a table looking through wedding magazines. I was carrying Rachel's '_gift'_ in my bag just in case an opportunity like this came up. She was seated with her majesty, Kurt Hummel, so I'd have that to contend with. Kurt was the one person who had a fast track to getting on my nerves. Not just because he'd beaten me so thoroughly at my own game, but because he was smart. So few people could keep up with me, that he actually had a way knocking me off balance every time I spoke to him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't a young Barbara Streisand and an old Betty White." It was the first opener that popped into my head and I hoped they were alone. "Where is Gay-Cyclopes? Still trying to stumble his way in here?" I looked around but I didn't see any more New Directions. Plus, seeing Blaine right now would put me on the serious defensive after the conversation with my dad.

It wasn't like I hadn't been listening to my father the day before. I had, but how was I supposed to even begin to apologize before the competition? It was what mattered most right now. I would honor what my father said. I'd apologize to Blaine by leaving the New Directions alone after we beat them. But first we had to win. Winning was more important.

Kurt mumbled something to Rachel that I ignored I presented Rachel Berry with my present. "Rachel…I, uh, brought an engagement gift for you." I watched in anticipation until I could deliver the killing blow of this new plan. How much did Rachel really want to save the reputation of her husband-to-be.

The look on her face, face was almost as cute and aghast as the look on Hummel's face. Of course they would accuse me of using Photoshop. The truth was I didn't actually do it, so it was easy to ignore the remark. All the same, watching both of them freak out, put a smile on my face a mile wide. "Just think, from now until eternity, every time someone Google's Finn Hudson, they'll be treated to that, and dozens just like it. That's the beauty of the internet, it stays with us forever." It was true. I had Jeff make several. My personal favorite was the one of naked Finn riding a rocket ship, but I thought the heels sent a special message.

I stayed long enough to deliver my threat to Rachel Berry. She drops out of the completion or I would upload naked photos of her fiancé onto the World Wide Web where they were doomed to stay for all eternity. I also stayed long enough to trade insults with Gay-face, but my heart wasn't completely in it. He'd beaten me once with the hidden tape and turned my boys against me right in front of my face once already. Still, he had the audacity to accuse me of giving a bad name to the gay community. As if all of us were meant to be friends just because we were gay! What kind of bill of goods was that?

I got out of there after that. I had delivered my ultimatum to Rachel Berry. She had twenty four hours to drop out of the competition. It would give the Warblers the edge we needed to beat McKinley. Sure I might feel the tiniest bit guilty later. But I'd be feeling guilty looking at a Regionals trophy.

Warbler's practice was going to run long again that afternoon. The routine was really coming together and we really needed to nail it if we were going to win. Of course, most of the boys didn't know about my little stunt with Photoshop either. There was no real need to tell them. No one wants to see how the sausage gets made.

That was when everything changed. Right then. Trent walked in after grabbing a drink from the fountain and he just had this look of doom on his face. "What's up."

"Do any of you guys know a guy named David Karofsky?" Most of the guys shook their heads _no_. I knew him of course, so I walked over and bit Trent's line.

"What's up?"

Trent was white as a sheet. "He tried to kill himself today." He turned his phone towards me and his Facebook page was up.

I was stunned. Completely and utterly stunned. I sat down and Trent let me read Karofsky's Facebook page, but there weren't very many details there. I felt something weird burning in my chest. Even after I decided to man up and hold practice. Something wasn't right. Could I have prevented this? I could have made a much better effort to be Dave's friend and I didn't simply because I didn't feel the need. It was something I thought about all through practice.

I got home later after a long and very sweaty, very weird Warbler's practice. Thankfully there hadn't been any more messages from James and I hadn't seen him at school either. I was pretty sure we were done, but we were both high when we fought so there was no telling. The guy could stay in the closet for all I cared. Apparently coming out in rural Ohio was bad for a person's self-esteem and health.

It was finally dawning on me what was really bothering me about the whole Karofsky suicide situation. When I came out, it hadn't been that big of a deal. I was who I was and I was loved and accepted. That was that. Karofsky was being punished for being who he was. He had been rewarded by the community for hiding the truth. And why should a person have to do that? People like us weren't allowed the same acceptance as everyone else and it was really starting to chap my ass!

The first thing I noticed when I got home was my dad's car in the driveway. That was unusual. Dad worked long hours and I almost never beat him home and even when I did, he was headed out to the golf course anyway. I wondered if there wasn't some special family event I had forgotten about or maybe Dad thought I needed more attention. That didn't make any sense though. The cat was already in the cradle on that one as I was little too old for so much personal attention.

I walked into kitchen and set my book bag on the table. Mary-Ellen was really good about letting me put my things just about anywhere. "Hi." I said looking over at her. She was standing in the kitchen, not making a snack for me like she usually did, but she was just standing there with this look on her face. Like the world was ending.

"You're Dad's in the study." She was nodding and pushing wisps of stray red hair out of her face. "He's waiting for you."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked cautiously. Maybe he had changed his mind about punishing me for what happened to Blaine. Mary-Ellen shook her head slightly and pointed with a flick of nervous fingers towards the study.

I Seriously felt as if I were marching towards my own doom. The tension in the air was palpable the closer I got to the door. "Dad?" I said knocking lightly in the door. He waved he in, and turned his computer screen so I could see it.

"Did you know this kid?" He said looking terribly serious. I could tell my dad saw me on that Facebook page and not Dave Karofsky. There was a great deal of animosity there.

"Yes Sir." I mumbled, "how did you know about that?"

"Word travels fast. Lima PD contacted us wanting a legal precedence for cyber bullying." He paused, "this kid. He was gay. He was outted at his school. Kids surrounded him in the locker room."

I literally did not know how to respond. Nothing like that had happened to me and I was beginning to think it was because my parents had been so sheltering. Not everyone lived the privileged life I did.

"I think you should visit him. In the hospital. Show some real support."

"Dad?" I had no idea why I was about to tell him, but I did. I opened my mouth and told him how I'd rejected Dave's olive branch of friendship at the club as full of remorse as if I were confessing to a priest. He was quiet for a long time after I was done taking. "Say something."

"Son. I know you feel some of the weight of this thing. In these situations, you have to look forward. The damage is done. Your actions can't be changed any more than his can." My father put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I swear I almost started crying right then. "The only thing you can change, are your actions. What you do from this moment forward counts. It takes ten '_Atta-boys'_ to erase one '_awe-shit'_. You'll figure this out. I know you will. You're a Smythe."

I nodded because I really couldn't do anything else. My throat was so tight it was like I had swallowed a whole handful of chopped onions and the fumes were refusing to let me breathe.

"Son." He said reeling me in. My father rarely hugged me mostly because I wasn't into that sort of thing, but he hugged me right there in the middle of his office. "I love you. I'm proud of you. And I will never stand by and allow someone to tell me that you don't have the right to love whom you love." I really didn't expect that from him. I knew he supported me, but this was him saying it out loud and hugging me. That did it. I cried like a twelve year old girl for five minutes

"Mary-Ellen's making you dinner. It would be nice if you paid her a compliment for it." He said letting me go and patting my shoulder.

"Can I take it in my room?" My voice actually broke when I asked the question and I could have been more embarrassed. I was nearly eighteen years old and cried in front of my father! I was officially a bitch. "I have work to do. Dave Karofsky work."

"You need help?" His eye brows went up in question and he looked so much like me in that moment. I knew I would always be my father's son.

"No." I shook my head getting myself back together, "no thank you Sir. This is something I need to fix on my own." I tried to smile, "ten _Atta-boys_ right?" He nodded and I left and practically ran upstairs.

In the past the way I normally dealt with these situations was to fight fire with fire. Or better yet, preemptively strike with fire. I was aggressive, that was no secret, but I kept thinking back to how the kids at Dave Karofsky's school had treated him. And how he'd been aggressive himself to hide who he really was. Did that mean I was hiding too? I was capable to being nice, I simply chose not to because it didn't yield the results I wanted in a timely manner.

But that hadn't really worked out had it? All it had gotten me was a great deal of hate and the loss of the only guy I could ever see as being a real boyfriend to me. It lost the friendship of Dave Karofsky too. I thought about Kurt then and how he'd beaten me at my own game and chose to take the high road by not using the tape against me. Even though I didn't actually like the guy, I kind of respected him for that. Maybe this time fighting fire with fire wasn't the right answer. That left me with the high road.

I made three calls and conferenced them all together. One to Trent, one to Thad, and one to David. All three were council members before I came in and pretty much made their jobs obsolete. Dave especially had taken a while to warm up to me because of it.

"What is this regarding?" Dave asked in a dry tone.

"I'm calling an emergency meeting." I said pushing my untouched dinner away from me. "I want to dedicate our performance to Dave Karofsky. A show of support."

"I think it's a great idea." Trent chimed in.

"And while we have a captive audience, I want to raise money for Lady Gaga's Born This Way Foundation. I want to rub it in the faces of every public school system administrator present that there's a different path."

It was Thad who spoke next, "do we really need to call a meeting for this? You have already made the decision."

"No." I said firmly. "I'm resigning as Captain. That leaves The Warblers in the capable hands of the counsel." The silence on all three lines was deafening.

"I don't see this as a problem, but we'll meet first thing in the morning." David agreed and I hung up the phone feeling a little bit better. Well. Almost. There was still one thing I had to do. Opening my laptop I began deleting doctored photographs of Finn Hudson.


	9. Part 9

**a/n** This story will have one more chapter and then it's done. It has been a very fun experience digging around inside Sebastian's head though! Thanks very much for taking the time to read! **  
**

**Part 9**

The next day at school was surreal. I have honestly never felt as though I were outside my own body before that day. First there was the emergency meeting with the Warblers in the morning. I stood next to the counsel and let David do most of the talking. I think he was happy to be back in charge to be honest. He sure did love holding that gavel like it was girlfriend.

The guys all agreed and some of the guys talked about organizing the charity drive even more. One of the boys had connections with the paper. It was too late to advertise, but the story would raise awareness and we could sneak the number in to donate to the charity for reader as well. Plus some other guys who weren't even Warblers wanted to volunteer to help collect while we were performing. I had to admit. A dozen heads were certainly better than one.

That was the easy part. The next phase of my '_Atta-boy'_ plan was going to be really rough. "Trent? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure what's up?" Trent looked at me with this weird hint of mistrust in his eyes, like I was about to ask for his first born in a satanic ritual or something.

"I…need Kurt Hummel's phone number." I think, to this day, that was a sentence I never thought I'd say.

To make matters worse Trent was shaking his head _no_ and walking backwards away from me. "I'm not going to be a party to any more schemes Sebastian. Forget it. Blaine…"

"Almost lost an eye!" I said a little too loudly cutting Trent off and turning a couple of curious heads in the hallway. "I know."

"This isn't a joke anymore man!"

"I know that too." I lowered my voice. "That's why I'm trying to make things right. If I call Blaine odds are he won't take my call or he'll just think it's another ploy to get in his pants. Calling Kurt will get results and a response. Now please."

"I could call for you…" Trent was reaching for his phone and I had reached the end of my patience.

"Will you just…" I lowered my voice again, "give me the God Damn number?" He did… finally. And I sent my very first text message to one Kurt Hummel.

**Sebastian:** Hello Kurt. This is Sebastian Smythe. I need to speak with you about an urgent matter. I'll be at the Lima Bean this afternoon around 4:30. Please bring Blaine. I have something I need to say to him too.

**Kurt:** Is this a joke?

**Sebastian**: No this is not a joke. If this were a joke I would say, a priest, a nun, and a rabbi walk into a bar.

**Kurt:** If this is really Sebastian, what was the last thing you said to me?

**Sebastian:** I thought you didn't hear the last thing I said to you because of my giant hose teeth.

**Kurt:** Sebastian?

**Sebastian:** Welcome to the conversation Lima Bean. 4:30

That conversation had not been what I was expecting either. And that afternoon I found myself sitting in the Lima Bean trying to concentrate on homework (and failing) when not just Kurt and Blaine walked in, but Kurt, Blaine, Santana, and Brittany. (I had never really spoken to Brittany before, but every Warbler knew her name and stalked her Facebook account. They worshipped her almost as much as they did Quinn Fabray.)

Santana sat down across from me and tried to tell me –from one bitch to another- that this '_vicious_ _underhanded crap had to stop_.' I could go on all day about how much I would probably click with Santana on a level that is very hard to explain. In another life we would have been friends. "Exactly. That's why I called you here." I agreed with her, and I wanted to be out with what I had to say because I already felt like a cat in a bathtub surrounded by the New Directions the way I was, but I had to man-up and do something else first.

I tried to remember what my father told me about apologies and about how being a man meant doing things I didn't really want to do…like admitting fault in the situation with Blaine. I am also smart enough to know that when you apologize, you can never slap a qualifier on an apology. You are either all wrong or nothing. Half-assed apologies do not get a person anywhere in life. My father taught me that much. And in this case especially I was wrong.

"First of all," God my voice was shaky and kept betraying me by cracking like I'd swallowed five or so frogs, but I had to get this out! I swung my gaze over to Blaine, looked him in the eye, and I owned my failure the way I _man_ is supposed to do. "Blaine, I am sorry about your eye." It sounded rushed in my head, but I was really nervous and I very rarely get as nervous as I was right then.

"That means nothing to me."

"Just give me a chance…" I said cutting him off. I should have known that with Hummel right next to him, his closed posture, and that open look of disgust that he'd choose not to believe me. And yeah I almost blinded him, so I didn't blame him. "I have no excuses…other than a lame prank got completely out of control." There. I said it and owned my blame with no qualifiers. Blaine got hurt, I was at fault. Period.

For a second he looked as if he were scrutinizing my words, deciding if he was ready to trust that I was telling the truth. All that was out of my hands now though and I had to move on with the other reason I'd called them here. Like my father said, it takes ten '_Atta-boys'_ or pats on the back to erase one really stupid mistake. Right now I wanted to atone for the thing I felt I'd done wrong and the real victim in this situation . Dave Karofsky. "The second, all the Finn photos have all been destroyed. I want the Warblers to win fair and square, and we're going to take donations for Lady Gaga's Born This Way foundation." I was nearly out of breath, but I had to finish this. "Win, lose, or draw, we're going to dedicate our performance to Dave Karofsky." There went my voice again. My guilt over the whole situation all the way around was shining through my words. "I thought you might want to join us."

That last bit got their attention. All accept Kurt who was still whispering in Blaine's ear like Jiminy Cricket. "Wait for the punch, you know it's coming."

I was shaking my head before Kurt ever finished, "not this time." I admit I can be a shit heel, but this wasn't about me anymore. This was about Dave. "For too long I have treated everything like a big joke." I knew I wasn't just talking about Dave. I treated James the same way. I had played the Warblers, I had manipulated Blaine and Kurt's relationship to try and get my way. So I sat there and relived for them that night at the bar. How Dave reached out to me and I ignored him, made light of his very desperate situation. Dave could have used a friend and I denied him that when he needed it most.

"It's all fun and games." I said seriously, "until it's not." They seemed to get it because even Kurt agreed. He had some weird connection to Dave I didn't understand. Dave had asked me about him in fact and I sort of shrugged it off that night. The important thing was, they accepted my apology and they agreed. Now all I had to do was follow through with my plan.

The evening of the competition loomed large in front of me, well us really, the Warblers and myself. The counsel was back in charge but because this was Regionals and the competitions was about as fierce as it could get, the guys were still clinging to me like scared little girls and looking to me for leadership.

Like any other competition, I put my game face on. Everything about my posture and my facial expressions screamed, '_I know what I'm doing_.' At least, that's what I was aiming for. It seemed to work and the guys who were really worked up over the competition eased off on the nervousness. I knew we had the decked against us. We were up first and we were in McKinley's own auditorium. But now way were we going down without a fight!

And fight we did! Every note, every harmony, every move was spot on! After our first number I felt nice and loose too, so I took a minute to remind everyone that Dalton was collecting for charity and every one of us smiled…not just at the judges, but at the audience in general. We were making a statement and I didn't want anyone to miss it. Here are a group of teenage guys who don't bully one another over trivialities like sexual orientation. This is the 21st century. We shouldn't even be having this conversation. At least that was what I was going for. I think we mostly came across as wholesome which was okay too.

Just before we started the second number, I glanced over to smile at my step mother Mary-Ellen and sitting right next to her was my father! He was smiling and looked so proud. I know that having your father take time out of his busy schedule to watch you compete in a show choir competition probably shouldn't be counted as an accolade in the grand scheme of '_Atta-boys'_, but I counted it anyway! My father is a State's Attorney and he is really _really_ busy! Having him show up to watch me literally made my day!

I tried to get my game face back on as quickly as I could because not only did I want to beat the New Directions. I wanted to show off a little for my dad. I can honestly say I have never sweated so much in my uniform under those hot lights and win, lose, or, draw… the Warblers left it all on the floor. When we walked away we literally had nothing else to give.

The other thing that sort of shocked me was the fact that the New Directions decided to cheer us on. The Warblers have history with them that didn't involve me, but I was still the centerpiece of the group. Cheering for them was like cheering for me. I didn't expect that and to be honest, it was sort of nice. I figured this must be what the high-road feels like.

That's why after sitting through the other competitions and even cheering for the New Directions, I wanted to win more than anything, but I can honestly say there was no shame in our defeat. The New Directions won, not because of a fluke, but because they deserved it. In all honesty, I was disappointed. The guys were too. They'd made it to Regionals last year and this felt more like hitting a brick wall to them. Nick was right behind me and I heard him whisper, "not again." He wasn't the only one thinking it.

Blaine came over to shake my hand and I had to swallow another lump in my throat. I hadn't realized just how much I really liked and how much I'd lost until just then. Blaine hadn't been just a conquest, he represented something for me, something I'd never had before. Now all that was gone and the very best I could hope for was to earn his friendship in some small way. Did it make me feel pathetic? Yeah, a little bit. This was what I could see as my own personal '_rock bottom._' Whatever it took, I was going to change their minds about me.

Starting with Dave Karofsky.


End file.
